Safe Words
by softydog88
Summary: Castle and Beckett's first bondage session is interrupted by a murder, of course.
1. Chapter 1

_Safe Words_

_Chapter One_

_Papa Smurf_

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Beckett as she tightened one end of the handcuffs around Castle's left wrist, wrapped the chain around the top beam of the bed's headboard, and fastened the other end to his right wrist.

"I've wanted to do this since you had me arrested the first time we met," said Castle. "I guess I'm just a fool for a strong, dominating woman."

"I agree with the fool part," Beckett teased, with a smile that revealed perfect white teeth between scandalously deep, scarlet lips. "So, your safe word is apples, right?"

"Apples?"

"You said that was your safe word when we first met," said Beckett.

"Oh, _that_," said Castle. "Nah, that was just the first thing that came to my mind. My real safe words are Papa Smurf."

"Come on!" said Beckett with a laugh. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Sure. I figure there's no way I'd say it in any other context. You hear me say Papa Smurf and you know I've had enough."

"As opposed to saying apples, which comes up so often during intense bondage sessions."

"It might, said Castle. "I have some pretty weird cravings."

Beckett smiled and climbed on the bed. She straddled Castle's torso with her legs, then bent down and placed her lips a quarter of an inch above Castle's own.

"Are you ready?" she said, softly. She brushed her cheek against his and whispered into his left ear. "Are you sure?" Castle, too stunned to speak, simply nodded.

Beckett stood up. "Well, I'm not," she said rather harshly, "and right now, you're going to be a good boy and sit still while I slip into something slick and sensuous. Then we'll see if you can take what I can dish out."

Castle gulped and watched as Beckett's naked form retreated into the bathroom. He glanced to his right. On the bedside table, bathed in soft, red light, was a bottle of coconut hibiscus massage oil, a jar of Nutella, and a first aid kit. Soon, the smell of jasmine floated over him and he closed his eyes to let the incense take him away. Then he heard the squeaky sound of skin against latex followed by two solid minutes of zippers zipping. He took another deep breath and the sound of a leather whip cracking the air snapped him out of his tranquility.

"I'm almost ready," said Beckett. "I hope you're not too excited over there. You know how much I like to help the little castle grow taller and taller right before my eyes."

"Trust me," said Castle. "I like letting you do the handiwork."

"What was that?" asked Beckett from the bathroom.

"What was what?" said Castle. "I didn't hear anything."

"Shit!" said Beckett. Suddenly she burst into the bedroom dressed in a robe. She pointed her gun directly at Castle.

"Papa Smurf, Papa Smurf!" shouted Castle.

Beckett transferred her gun to her left hand and uncuffed Castle. "Shh," she whispered. "I think I heard someone trying to break in. Take your clothes and get dressed. Now."

Beckett hurried into the living room just as there was a knock at the door. "Beckett, come on, we know you're in there!" said Esposito. "We can smell the incense."

"Yeah," said Ryan. "Good choice, by the way. Jenny and I like Jasmine."

Beckett opened the door, but didn't let the boys in. "I was just about to take a bath," she said. "What are you doing here, anyway? I put in for a three-day weekend a month ago."

"You didn't answer your phone," said Espo, "and we have a murder. Senator Thompson's housekeeper was killed. The safe was open and emptied out. Gates says we all have to work this one." He handed Beckett a piece of paper with the senator's address.

"Got it," said Beckett. "I'll get dressed and meet you guys at the crime scene."

"Castle too," said Ryan.

"I'll call him," said Beckett.

"Or," said Espo, "you can just bring him with you. Once he finishes getting dressed, that is." He and Ryan started laughing and they gave each other a high-five as they walked down the hallway.

Beckett slammed the door just as Castle wrapped his arms around her.

"Sorry," he said. "I must have been a little too loud." Beckett pulled away from Castle's grasp and glared at him. Castle just sighed and rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been.

* * *

Senator Maggie Thompson lived in a Park Avenue penthouse, as one would expect of anyone so corrupt. Castle and Beckett approached the main entrance in silence and were met by a doorman who looked like he might have provided security at the Altamont concert in '69.

"No one gets in here without the police sez so," said the doorman, a brutish, hulking figure in a tattered 1920's bellhop uniform. He positioned himself entirely too close to Beckett in an attempt to intimidate her, and perhaps, to surreptitiously cop a feel. Or feel a cop. Castle stepped forward, but Beckett pushed him back with her hand.

"I AM the police" said Beckett, as she held up her badge in front of the doorman's nose. "So step out of the way, Bruno, and I won't bust you for obstruction of justice."

"How'd you know my name?" said Bruno, apparently forgetting he was wearing a badge that said 'hello, my name is Bruno.'

"Lucky guess," said Beckett. Castle shuffled past the doorman/Luca Brasi lookalike, desperately trying to avoid making eye contact.

"Excuse me," he said under his breath. "I'm with her."

Bruno snorted, which to Castle sounded like a bull gathering a head of steam, so he quickened his pace and fell in next to Beckett.

The building, called Imperial Arms, was a beautiful Art Deco showpiece in its day, but that had been ninety years ago and it was showing obvious signs of age and disrepair. _The senator is slumming it, _thought Castle. _This place is for the formerly rich. Maybe she can't afford anything better. _The elevator creaked and shuddered during the ride to the penthouse, and when it finally came to a tortured stop, the screech it made suggested the cables were rusted. The door opened in stages, and when it finally relinquished the struggle, Castle and Beckett came face-to-face with Ryan and Esposito.

"Hello, Beckett," said Espo. He turned to Castle. "Hello, Papa Smurf."

Becket swung her arm toward Espo, but he ducked out of the way, laughing. "I'll deal with you later," she said to Castle. "I'm thinking of using that whip in a way you won't find sexy at all."

"Tease," said Castle, smiling. He and Beckett followed Espo and Ryan to the bedroom. It was dark, with wood panels and heavy drapes covering the windows. Beckett sniffed at the air. "Musty," she said.

The body was on the floor, face down, with a bloody mass at the base of the skull.

"Single tap to the head," said Ryan. "Killed execution style."

"The housekeeper?" asked Beckett. "The safe was already open. Why kill her when the robbery was already accomplished? And why make it look like an execution?"

Lanie was crouched over the body, probing at the wound with a gloved hand. "Looks like a .38," she said. Death would have been instantaneous."

"The safe was emptied out too," said Ryan. "The only thing left inside it was this piece of paper." He handed it to Beckett.

"Once upon a midnight dreary," said Kate. "That's all it says."

"The first line of Edgar Allen Poe's poem _The Raven_," said Castle.

Beckett looked at the safe. It was a typical wall safe, hidden behind a painting. The door was ajar. Kate put on her gloves and prodded around the perimeter and on the inside.

"We won't get any useful prints," she said. "Not if the killer is the pro we think he is."

"Get out of my way!" said a voice from outside the door. "I'm Senator Thompson!"

A tall, thin woman entered the room, pushing uniformed cops aside. Castle knew her face well; Thompson had a reputation for blocking legislation with filibusters, always to delay progressive causes. On leftist websites, she was known not as a GOP stalwart, but as a GOP stall wart.

"Who's in charge here?" demanded the senator. Beckett stepped forward.

"I am," she said. "My name is-"

"Who did this?" said Thompson. She bent over the body and held a gloved hand over her mouth. Standing up, she regained her composure and said "I want answers. Now."

"Our investigation is just beginning," said Beckett. "But there are signs that this was a professional hit."

"Nonsense," said Thompson. "It was a homicide committed during a robbery, that's all."

"Who was your housekeeper, really?" asked Beckett. "I don't think you found her on Angie's list. In fact, I doubt she's a housekeeper at all."

"What makes you say that?" said Thompson in a voice that was tinged with rage.

"There are no signs the safe was forced," said Beckett. "And considering the construction and age of it, it wouldn't be that hard to do. So either the murderer knew the combination, or your housekeeper did. And we both know you wouldn't give the combination to your housekeeper."

"She's a former staffer of mine," said Thompson. "I lobbied pretty aggressively to get cuts in federal spending made, and, it turns out, congressional staff was cut in half. I had to let her go, but I felt sorry for her, so I brought her on as my housekeeper."

"I remember those cuts," said Castle. They were over six months ago. So, did your housekeeper just start today? What was she doing for six months?"

"I don't like your tone of voice," said Thompson. "And I don't know what you're driving at."

"She's not doing a very good job, senator," said Castle. "There's dust everywhere. The bed isn't made. There are dirty dishes in the sink."

Thompson took a deep breath. "I've fallen on hard times," she said. "I invested my money with Allen Stanford, and it was all a big Ponzi scheme, to my utter shock. I lost everything. It's why I'm living in this building. Jennifer – she's the victim – is helping me write my memoirs to raise some money. I asked her to act as a housekeeper if anyone came over, so it would look like I wasn't broke. She was a good sport about it. I keep a lot of confidential papers in the safe, so of course she had the combination."

"Does this mean anything to you?" asked Beckett as she handed the senator the note from the safe. Thompson quickly read it and her face turned white. She pulled out her cell phone and began frantically dialing.

"Who are you calling?" asked Beckett. The senator ignored her.

"This is senator Maggie Thompson," said the senator into the phone. "I need to talk to the director right away. Yes, of course I'll hold."

"The director?" said Beckett. "Are you starring in a movie?"

Thompson held her hand over the microphone. "The director of the CIA," she said.

"Whoa," said Castle. He took Beckett aside.

"If the housekeeper is dead and the murderer is gone, who called it in?" he whispered. "All the curtains are closed, so no one could see from across the street.

"I was wondering that myself," said Beckett. "I'll have Espo get the 911 tape. Maybe we can get something off of that."

Castle covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head a few times.

"Papa Smurf," he said.

"Will you get off that?" said Beckett.

"You don't understand," said Castle. "We have a murder and the only clue is some words that so freaked out the senator that she immediately called the CIA. Words. On a piece of paper. In a safe. Safe words. Freaky, isn't it?"

"Only to you, Castle," said Beckett.

The senator ended her call and Beckett said "now, Castle, let's see how the CIA figures into all of this, shall we?"

"We shall," said Castle, and he rubbed his hands together like a little boy in a comic book store.


	2. Chapter 2

_Safe Words_

_Chapter Two_

_Blue Raven_

"Senator, why don't we sit in the living room?" said Beckett.

"Let's make it my study. I'll talk to you and him, Thompson said, pointing at Castle, "but I want everyone else out."

"We'll stay here and keep searching," said Ryan. "Maybe something else will turn up."

Beckett took Ryan aside and whispered something to him. He nodded.

"Sorry I was a little bit brusque with you earlier," said Thompson as they entered the study. She held out her hand to Beckett. "I guess I was overcome at seeing a dead body in my own bedroom."

Beckett shook Thompson's hand. "Of course, senator" she said. "Totally understandable under the circumstances."

"What did you say your name is?"

"Kate Beckett. This is Richard Castle."

"Richard Castle?" said Thompson. "The author?"

"And consultant," said Castle. "I work with the NYPD on a case-by-case basis."

Castle and Beckett sat on a old, leather couch facing a large oak desk. The room was dark, with faded mahogany walls and lots of books in bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling across two of the walls. Thompson's desk had pictures on it, of course. The senator flanked by George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. The Senator posing with a cardboard cut out of Ronald Reagan. The Senator in front of the United Nations security council, giving testimony on WMD's in Iraq. The senator with her late husband and a uniformed Marine.

"Your son?" asked Castle, referring to the last picture.

"Yes," said Thompson. She didn't elaborate. "Well, about the case, then. No offense, but you're both in way over your head. This is going to have federal jurisdiction."

"Nope," said Beckett. "Our precinct. Our homicide. Unless Jennifer turns out to be a fed herself."

"She's not."

"Then maybe you can explain that call to the CIA," said Castle.

Lanie poked her head in the door. "Excuse me, detective," she said. "I have some news."

"Come in," said Thompson. "Tell us what you found out."

"Once I turned the body over, I found bruising on the victim's stomach and sternum," she said. "You can be sure she put up quite a fight before she gave up the combination. But...there are a lot of scars there, too. She was tortured, but not recently."

"She didn't give up the combination," said Thompson.

"How do you know that?" asked Lanie.

"Thanks, Lanie," said Beckett. "We'll see you back at the morgue."

"You were about to tell us who Jennifer really was," said Castle after Lanie left. "She's not your housekeeper and I doubt she's your ghost writer either."

"Actually, she _is_ my ghost writer," said the senator. "Her name is Jennifer Thompson. She's my daughter-in-law."

"Why didn't you tell us that from the start?" said Beckett.

"I need to keep the circle small for now. This is going to have huge ramifications. She and Douglas – my son – met in the Marine Corps. She served two tours in Afghanistan and was taken prisoner, but she was rescued by a team that Douglas led. That's how they met."

"And that's where she was tortured?" said Castle.

"No," said Thompson. "She was tortured by the CIA. They thought she had turned when she was in Afghanistan, but she didn't. She took every bit of punishment they could dole out, but she was a Marine, through-and-through. She was trained to take the punishment, so I know she didn't give up the combination. The murderer had to have another source."

"What about the paper?" said Beckett. "Why did that get you on the phone to the CIA right away?"

"The Raven, right? Well, Blue Raven is my son's handle. He's undercover in the CIA."

"Wait a minute," said Beckett, "why would Douglas work for the same outfit that tortured his wife?"

"Director Elliott didn't sanction Jennifer's torture. He thinks there's a rogue unit inside the CIA that's operating without oversight, and he knows it would be a political disaster if it was found out that they were working under his authority. He's trying to find out who they are, stop them, and bring it to the public himself. Then he'll be a hero, not an incompetent. Douglas is part of the team that's trying to figure out who they are and bring them to justice. They report directly to Elliott."

"And you trust the director?" said Castle.

"Implicitly," said Thompson. "We went to Yale Law together. He sat with me in the hospital when my husband was dying. And he's looking out for Douglas, too. That's why I called him. I had to let him know that Doug's identity was compromised. He also needed to know that someone in the CIA knows what he's been up to."

"Any idea who that could be?" said Beckett.

"Deputy director Alexander would be my guess," said Thompson. "With Elliott out of the way, she takes over as head honcho."

"Where's Douglas now?" asked Castle.

"I have no idea. And that worries me. I need to know that he's safe. And I need him to know that his wife is dead. He needs to know that. It's all – too much to take."

Thompson rubbed her eyes with a handkerchief and looked away.

"One last thing," said Beckett, softly. "We're going to need a list of the safe's contents."

"There is no list, detective."

"You don't have one for insurance purposes?" said Beckett.

"There was nothing to insure. No jewelry, no cash, no securities. Just papers for my memoirs. Some of them are sensitive, but they're all declassified. I just kept them in my safe because there are certain people who would be...scandalized...if some of this information was made public."

"OK, then," said Beckett. She handed the senator her business card. "We'll be in touch as the investigation progresses," she said.

"Thank you," said Thompson. "Let me give you my personal cell phone number. Call me any time, night or day."

Beckett added the senator as a contact, and then she, Castle, Esposito and Ryan took the elevator down together.

"Ryan, what did you find out?" asked Beckett.

"You were right," said Ryan. "Bruno has a rap sheet a mile long. Burglary, extortion, vandalism, numbers, you name it. And assault. Lots and lots of assault."

"What about security footage?"

"None," said Ryan. "There used to be cameras in the lobby, but they were stolen and never replaced. Hardly a surprise, given everything else about this dump."

"I questioned Bruno," said Espo. "He said that he didn't see anyone come in or out for an hour before we showed up. Before that, he was having breakfast at the deli across the street. I asked around at the deli and three of the staff confirmed it. Bruno's a regular over there, though I have to wonder how anyone is able to digest a pastrami and cottage cheese omelet."

"They told you what he ate?" asked Castle.

"Yeah," said Espo. "Apparently he gets it every day. Why?"

"Beckett, we should check out that deli," said Castle. "It seems like the staff over there was giving Bruno an alibi. Like they all had a rehearsed answer ready to go. It might be a front business for the mob."

"That's a long shot, Castle," said Beckett, "but we'll check it out anyway. Ryan, you still have contacts at the Organized Crime Task Force, right? Give them a call and see if that place is on their radar."

"Will do," said Ryan.

They reached the lobby and Castle drew closer to Beckett again.

"Don't leave town, Bruno," said Beckett as they passed him. "We may want to question you some more."

"How'd you know my name?"

"Same way I knew it the first time," said Beckett. "It's right there on your badge."

"Oh, yeah," said Bruno. "Well, you know what they say. If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered."

Castle froze in his tracks. "What is it, Castle?" asked Beckett.

"Nothing," said Castle and they walked outside.

* * *

Inside Beckett's car, Castle was losing a battle with his cell phone. "These things are too damned small," he said. "I can't do any real research this way."

"We'll be back at the 12th in a few minutes," said Beckett. "You can use my computer there."

When they reached the station house, Castle practically leaped out of the car. He sped up the stairs, fidgeted during the elevator ride, and sprinted to Beckett's desk. He took a seat, accessed her computer, and typed in her user ID and password.

"You know my password?" said Beckett, outraged. Castle ignored her.

"I know that quote from somewhere," he said.

"What quote?" asked Beckett.

"What Bruno said. 'If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.' I've read that somewhere but I can't quite place it."

He Googled the quote, and when the answer came up, he and Beckett gasped.

"I'll be damned," said Beckett. "It's from Edgar Allen Poe."


	3. Chapter 3

_Safe Words_

_Chapter Three_

_Bruno...Carl...John_

"OK," said Castle, "we know that Bruno isn't the dope we thought he was. Not if he can quote Edgar Allen Poe from memory."

"So," said Beckett, "he had access to the apartment, he could have gotten in by pretending to deliver flowers or something, and that gave him the opportunity to kill Jennifer and open the safe. I'm going to call CSU," she said. "Maybe they can give me the lowdown on how the safe was opened."

Castle made two cups of coffee, and when he got back to Beckett's desk, she was talking to Ryan and Espo.

"Organized crime says the deli is fine," said Ryan. "They have an up-to-date business license, they pass their inspections, pay their taxes. No red flags there."

"So Bruno works for the CIA," said Castle. "Maybe not directly, but he's an informant. I'm willing to bet on it."

"Based on what?" asked Espo.

"Think about it. The deli is too good to be true. Every restaurant in New York has _some_ problems. A perfectly clean slate is just not possible. Only a government organization would try to make something seem less suspicious and in the process make it _more _suspicious. We know that Bruno goes there every day, or the employees want us to think he does. But we ran Bruno's record and all we found are the type of crimes that a two-bit mob wannabe would commit. Nothing that would raise an eyebrow in anything the CIA would be involved with. I think they opened a deli as a front, planted Bruno in Thompson's building and created a fake rap sheet for him to throw any investigators off the scent. Bruno's got access to the senator and close proximity to a safe location where he could report every morning for assignments and debriefings. And he could fill them in on what the senator's been up to."

"And he does all this while eating the most disgusting breakfast ever conceived?" asked Beckett.

"And drinking a cup of coffee. _If _we believe what they told Espo. I think we need someone in there soon who can keep an eye on Bruno and let us know what he's up to."

Beckett thought about that for a minute. "Yeah, I agree," she said. "We'll set it up for tomorrow morning."

"Should we have a chat with Bruno in the meantime?" asked Castle.

"No," said Beckett. "Let's not bring him in until we know more about him. I don't want any surprises if we can avoid them."

The rest of the day passed slowly. CSU said the safe was a old, basic model and it was probably picked either by listening to the tumblers with a stethoscope, or the killer knew the password already. It wouldn't have posed any real problem to a professional thief and killer. There were no unknown fingerprints on the safe, no bloody footprints, no hair or fibers at the scene.

"It's a dead end," said Castle.

"Yeah, we'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning to see what Bruno's up to," said Beckett.

"Listen, why don't I meet you at your place in an hour?" said Castle. "I have to go home for a bit to meet Alexis. She wants to talk to me about something mysterious. I hope she's going to ask me to give a guest lecture for her English class. It'll do those kids some good to put down the Dickens novels for a while and curl up with a good dose of Nikki Heat. You know, teach them some real-world lessons."

"It's interesting that you think Nikki Heat is grounded in the real world, Castle. I like the side of you that just refuses to grow up. It keeps _me _grounded."

"It's my best quality," said Castle.

"See ya," said Beckett as her phone rang. It was Lanie.

"What have you got?" Beckett asked. "Really? Oh, God, that's awful. OK, thanks. Talk to you later."

And with that, Beckett left the 12th precinct for the night.

* * *

"So," said Castle over a glass of after-dinner wine, "no luck on the guest lecture. The reality is much worse." He swallowed the remainder of his wine in a single gulp.

"Oh?" said Beckett.

"Alexis wants to go to Cancun for spring break. I told her I have to think about it."

"You should let her go and have fun, Castle. I know you trust her, and believe me, I know how much hard work goes into being a student at Columbia."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Beckett squinted, as though she was trying to read between the lines.

"It means that I went to Stanford, another top school, and I know the routine."

"And you're implying that since I went to City College, I don't know anything about it?"

"No, of course not. But I was a nerd in college. I could have used a good spring break getaway, as could any Stanford student, or Columbia student or City College student. Instead, I spent my breaks in the library."

"No one asked you to go, did they?" asked Castle with a sneer.

It took Beckett twenty seconds to answer. "No," she finally said, "but if anyone had, I still wouldn't have gone, which I'm now sorry for. And trust me, you don't want Alexis regretting it when she gets to be my age, because she won't be regretting it so much as blaming you."

"I'd just like to see her wait until next year," said Castle. "That way, she'll be twenty-one, and she can get arrested for being drunk, but not for being drunk and underage."

"Well," said Beckett, "fortunately, that's not an issue for us." She stood and picked up her wine glass, and the bottle. "Shall we finish what we started this morning?" she asked. She started walking toward the bedroom.

"Nah," said Castle. "My blood pressure still hasn't recovered from when you pointed a gun at me. Instead, I'm going to wind down with a night of unbridled mayhem online."

He picked up his game controller and turned on the TV while Beckett grabbed a pillow and a blanket from a nearby closet.

"Here you go," she said, tossing them onto the couch. "Don't you dare wake me up."

* * *

The Loaves and Knishes Deli was packed at 8:30 AM. Castle and Beckett sat in her car across the street from the deli, and Ryan and Esposito were on the roof of the Imperial Arms. Five minutes later, Bruno made his way into the deli. Castle reached into his pocket, took out his cell phone, and held it up to his mouth.

"Suspect entered the deli at oh-eight-thirty-five," he said. "Wearing blue jeans, an oxford shirt and..."

"Castle, this isn't an episode of Dragnet," said Beckett. "You don't need to record anything. Just look and listen. She should make contact soon."

They sat there for ten minutes before the speaker crackled to life.

"Test, one-two. I just turned on the microphone. This better work."

There was a lot of background noise typical of a deli. Conversations, waiters shouting orders, dishes being collected from tables. Then, cutting through it all, they heard Bruno speak.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello."

"I couldn't help noticing you're reading _The Pit and the Pendulum_," continued Bruno. "It's one of my very favorite stories."

"Mine too. I re-read all of Poe's works every few years. They never get old."

"Indeed, no. What's your favorite?"

"Story or poem?"

"Both," said Bruno.

"Well, for story, it's probably _The Tell-Tale Heart._ I first read it when I was a little girl. It was my first Poe story, so it has a special significance to me. For a poem, I have to go with _The Bells. _It's not that I don't love _The Raven_, of course, but _The Bells _just plays with my emotions so well. From happiness to contentment to fear to terror, all wrapped up in four amazing stanzas."

"Wow," said Bruno, "that's exactly how I feel. Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do."

"My name is Bruno. What's yours?"

"It's Eve. Please to meet you, Bruno."

"Likewise."

"Sir," came another voice, "I have your pastrami and cream cheese omelet. Shall I top off your coffee?"

"It's supposed to be cottage cheese," said Bruno.

"I'm sorry," said the waiter. "I must have written it down wrong. I'll get it fixed right away."

"Please excuse me," said Bruno. "I'll be right back."

A moment later, Castle and Beckett saw the woman leave the deli carrying a coffee cup. She poured the contents into the street and hurried to Beckett's car.

"Get in," said Beckett.

"Did you hear our conversation?" said the woman once Beckett started driving away.

"We did," said Beckett. "He actually does order that vile breakfast every day."

"Here's his coffee cup." The woman handed it to Castle.

"Thank you," he said. "We should be able to get DNA or fingerprints off of it."

"You owe me $20. And I'm never going near that place or that man again."

"You won't have to," said Castle. "And thanks, mother."

* * *

"Bingo!" said Espo an hour later. "We got a fingerprint hit." He attached a photo of Bruno to the whiteboard.

"Meet Carl La Paglia," he said. "BA in English from Hunter College. Former high school teacher, until budget cuts got him laid off. And editor of _Poe-Try_, an online magazine where people try their hand at writing poems in the style of Edgar Allen Poe."

"Go pick him up," said Beckett.

Castle was having a cup of coffee when Espo and Ryan brought La Paglia in. He rushed over to the interrogation room just as La Paglia was sitting down.

"Hello again, Bruno," said Beckett. "Or should I call you Carl?" Carl shrugged.

"So," said Castle, "why did you want us to believe you were a bellhop with a street thug's record?"

"I'm not Bruno, and I'm not Carl, either," said the man formerly known as Bruno and Carl. "They're both fake identities set up by the CIA. Carl was a contingency plan in case anyone started asking questions about Bruno."

"I knew it!" shouted Castle.

"This should be good," said Beckett. "So, who are you really?"

"My real name is John Manzano. And I need protection."

"Protection?" asked Beckett. "What makes you think we could protect you from the CIA?"

"I don't need protection from the CIA. I need protection from Senator Thompson."


	4. Chapter 4

_Safe Words_

_Chapter Four_

_Revelations_

"Wait a minute," Beckett said, "first of all, are you with the CIA or not? And why do you need protection from Senator Thompson?"

"Yes, I'm with the CIA," Manzano said. "I was placed in this building to keep an eye on the senator. I record her visitors, what time she leaves in the morning, what time she returns. I'm really just a pair of eyes that can alert others who do the actual surveillance. But I think the senator knows that I'm undercover. Strange things have been happening, and she's the only person at the Imperial Arms with any real power. Most of the other tenants are just average Joes. Or Joannes, I guess."

"Were you told why the senator needed to be watched?"

"Are you kidding? At my level, the less I know, the better. But I do go across the street every day for breakfast. You already know it's a front for the CIA. Lots of scuttlebutt in that place. I hear things."

"You've got to do better than that," Castle said.

Manzano took a deep breath. "There are two competing factions in the agency," he began. "Old-timers loyal to director Elliott, who are trying to shield him from leaks and keep him in power, and those who are throwing in with deputy director Alexander. I'm in the latter group. We think that the director is trying to cover up the evidence that Jennifer Thompson was tortured. We're trying to expose him and get him arrested. Then Alexander can take over and we can finally have some new blood at the helm. Someone who loves our country enough to understand that torturing Americans is never OK. So, to answer your question, no, I wasn't told why I was placed here, but I do have my suspicions. I'm working against the director and the senator. And if I'm right, I'm in danger. And that's why I fed you that Poe line. I figured you'd know it and suspect me."

Castle was incredulous. "You _fed_ me that line?"

"Of course I did. You think I don't know who you are? I've read your books, and I know that you're a Poe enthusiast at heart. I also know that Douglas Thompson's handle is Blue Raven and I know what was on that piece of paper in the safe. I counted on you to make the connection."

"How did you know what was on that paper unless you put it there yourself?" asked Beckett. She cast a suspicious eye at Manzano, but he didn't react to it.

"I heard those other detectives, the ones who interviewed me yesterday, talking about it. And that's another reason to fear the senator. She knows I have access to all the apartments and she might think that I was the one who put the note there. And that meant I was the one who killed Jennifer."

"How did you know Douglas Thompson's handle?" asked Castle.

"Remember, I work for the CIA too. There's a certain amount of information that I have to have just to try to stay alive doing this gig."

"What sort of things have been happening to make you suspect the senator?" said Beckett.

"I've been called at home and told to take the day off, with no notice. My logs have gone missing. The security cameras that were here were taken down and not replaced, even though management said they were doing an upgrade. That was six months ago. And if you're doing an upgrade, why remove the existing cameras before the new ones arrive? Oh, and another thing, this morning. I was talking to a woman when the waiter brought me the wrong omelet. That's a sign that my handler needs to speak to me. When I got back, the woman was gone. And I think she took my coffee cup, maybe to get fingerprints or DNA. She might be working for Thompson."

"You have a point," Beckett said after a quick glance at Castle. "But I'm still wondering why the senator would be involved with any of this. Why would she want her daughter-in-law killed? And why would she suspect that you're anything other than a bellhop?"

"She'd have found out who I really am from director Elliott. As for why she's involved, who knows? She's a politician, so she could be neck deep in all kinds of criminal behavior. Plus, I know my way around that building by now. It's a dump. If she lives there, she must be having financial problems. Money, or lack of it, can make people do some pretty desperate things. Anyway, I can't trust the senator or the agency. I need outside protection."

"There's no way we can protect you, Manzano. We only have your word to go on. And it's not like you've given us any reason to trust that word so far."

"I don't have any way to confirm I'm with the CIA," Manzano said. "You're just going to have to decide whether or not you trust me."

"That would be no," Beckett said. "Sit tight. We're going to speak to the captain." She stood up, then did a double take.

"One more thing, Manzano. You said your handler needed to speak to you this morning. About what?"

"Sorry, detective, that's classified."

Castle and Beckett left the interrogation room. "My gut says he's not telling the truth," said Beckett.

"Mine, too," said Castle. "Listen, I'm dying for a cup. Want one?"

"You're not coming in to speak to Gates?"

"No, not this time. I'll be back in a bit."

When Beckett returned to her desk, Castle was using her computer.

"I have _got_ to change my password," said Beckett. She glanced at the screen.

"Castle, you're Tweeting?"

"I'm almost done. Just getting the word out that my dog died. I'm sure to get a ton of sympathetic remarks."

"Your dog? What are you talking about? You don't have a dog."

"No," Castle said. "I don't. What did Gates have to say?"

Beckett sighed and shook her head. "She said we can keep him overnight, but that's it. If we can't figure out his involvement in this by tomorrow morning, we're going to have to let him go. But that wasn't all. She got a very angry call from the senator wondering why we haven't arrested anyone. When Gates started to tell her about Manzano, she hung up."

"That raises a big old red flag."

"I agree. And I'm guessing as soon as the senator hung up with Gates, she called the director of the CIA."

"Can we get a dump on her phone?"

Beckett considered it. "Maybe," she said. "But it might be pretty risky, trying to get the records of a senator. And even if we did, and she called the CIA, what would that prove?"

Ryan and Esposito stepped off the elevator. "We came up empty," Espo said. "No one saw anyone suspicious go into or out of the Imperial Arms."

"It was a long shot," Beckett said, "but we've run into a brick wall. What about the note?"

"Nothing there, either," said Ryan. "CSU said it didn't match the sample of the senator's writing that we gave them."

"Where does that leave us?" Castle asked.

"Up the creek," Beckett said. She thought for a moment.

"Ryan, Espo, I want you to dig up everything you can on Carl La Paglia. See if you can confirm our guest is him. Maybe we can find out something that will prove that La Paglia is an alibi and give us a little bit better reason to trust Manzano. Or whoever he is. Castle and I will talk to the senator again."

Beckett's phone rang. She put it on speaker.

"Hello, detective Beckett," said senator Thompson. "Have you turned up anything on Bruno? I heard through the grapevine that you arrested him."

"Yeah, through the CIA grapevine," muttered Castle.

"What was that? Am I on speakerphone?"

Beckett switched the call back to the handset and glared at Castle. "Nothing, senator," said Beckett. "And no, we didn't arrest Bruno. We just brought him in for questioning."

"I had the FBI section chief pull his record, detective. He's a two-bit hood. Even if he didn't do anything to my daughter-in-law, I still want him the hell out of my building. I'm going to speak to the board about it next chance I get." The line went dead.

"Looks like Thompson is working to get Manzano fired," Beckett said. "Maybe she really does suspect that he's not really a bellhop."

"The director could have told her," Castle said.

"You think he would give up the identity of someone who works for him?"

"If he and the senator are in cahoots, yes."

Beckett smiled. "You know what I love about you, Castle? You're the only person I know who would ever use a word like 'cahoots.'" She took his hand.

"Let's go home. Maybe getting out of here will help us figure out a way to confirm Manzano's identity."

"We'd better hope so, Beckett. We'd better hope so."

* * *

"I don't know about you," said Castle after a light dinner, "but I'm ready to pick up where we left off yesterday. It might 'stir the little gray cells,' as Hercule Poirot would say, and lead us to some kind of strategy."

"I thought you'd never ask," Beckett said. "I can be ready in five minutes."

Beckett had one of Castle's wrists in handcuffs when the Mission Impossible theme song rang out.

"I've got to get that," said Castle, reaching for his phone with his free hand. "I'll put it on speaker."

"Hello, Richard," said a husky voice.

"Dad. Thanks for calling me back."

"I see your dog died. Such a shame."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Hi, Jackson," she said.

"Kate. Keeping my boy in line?"

"Trying to. He gets away a lot, but I'm willing to handcuff him to keep him from getting into too much trouble."

Jackson laughed. "So, Richard, what do you need?"

"Can we meet?"

"I'm in Vienna now, but I can be airborne in less than an hour if it's an emergency."

"I don't think that's necessary. It's just that Beckett and I caught a murder that has CIA implications."

"Jennifer Thompson."

"How did you know?"

"How did _I_ know?"

"OK, stupid question. So, what can you tell me about a low-level operative named John Manzano? Is he legit?"

"I know he's _not_ a low-level operative, Richard. He's the director's right-hand man."


	5. Chapter 5

_Safe Words_

_Chapter Five_

"_Things will be in motion."_

"Son of a bitch!" said Castle. "He played us! He had us thinking that he was working against the director and Senator Thompson, and they're all in it together!"

"Slow down," said Jackson. "What's going on?"

Castle and Beckett spent a few minutes bringing Jackson up to speed.

"This is worse than I thought," Jackson said. "Manzano is right about the two factions within the agency, though. I'm in Alexander's camp, and believe me when I tell you there's a lot at stake. I think I'd better get over to New York and brief you in person. I'll get some sleep on the plane and then we can meet for breakfast tomorrow morning. There's a deli called Loaves and Knishes uptown. It's a CIA front operation, and filled with my people."

"You're kidding, right?" Castle said. "That's where we found Manzano. He goes there for breakfast every morning. If he's the director's right-hand man, why would he go there?" He thought for a second. "Maybe he's trying to find out what Alexander's camp is up to."

"Too risky, Richard. They'd spot a fellow agent in a minute."

"Jackson, what does Manzano look like?" asked Beckett.

"Six-two, lean, dark hair and a very visible combat scar under his left eye."

"That's not him!" said Castle and Beckett together.

"I'm gonna get moving," said Jackson, "but before I do, I'm going to send you an email with some pictures. They're from my personal files that I've compiled for over thirty years, so this is rock solid intel. Meet me at 8 at the deli tomorrow morning and let me know if any one of them is your boy."

"Jackson, why not just show us the pictures in person tomorrow?" said Beckett.

"Because, Kate, by that time, things will probably be in motion that we're going to have to work fast to stop." The line clicked dead.

"This is getting more and more bizarre," Beckett said. "Fortunately, I have an excellent way to take our minds off it." She put her arms around Castle and began to nibble on his left earlobe. He shook his head and she pulled back in alarm.

"Are you kidding?" Castle asked. "Don't you want to look at the pictures?"

"We have all night to look at the pictures, Castle. I want to make love."

"Yeah, um..."

Castle sat there and tried to assume an innocent puppy dog look, but Beckett wasn't buying it. Finally, after a prolonged staring contest, Castle's phone beeped.

"The photos are here!" he shouted as he sprang out of bed, one wrist still cuffed. "Come on, Beckett! I'll bring up the email on my computer and we can see the photos nice and big."

Beckett laid in bed, flat on her back and stared into space.

* * *

A half hour later, Castle was immersed in the photographs when Beckett walked by, fully dressed.

"There must be a thousand photos here, Beckett," Castle said. He tried to wave her over. "Come help me."

"I'll be back soon," she said. "I'm going to the drugstore."

"Why so late? Aren't you feeling well?"

"I'm fine, Castle. I just need batteries."

Castle didn't respond. Beckett opened the door and had stepped halfway through it when Castle's voice cried out.

"Oh my God! Beckett, look at this!"

Beckett closed the door with a sigh and walked slowly to the computer.

"What is it, Castle? Something?"

"Just the real identity of Manzano. He's actually..."

Beckett interrupted him. "Carl La Paglia? When is this bullshit going to stop?"

"Think about it, though. He knew we'd check it out and realize he's not who he said he was. Maybe he was trying to tie Manzano into this. By making us investigate him, he might have been trying to point us to the right man."

"Why not just tell us, Castle? Why all the rigmarole?"

"I don't know. But there has to be a reason that he lied to us. There just _has_ to be." He yawned.

"Did you say you were going to buy batteries?" he asked with a quizzical look on his face. "What for?"

Beckett stared at him and raised her right eyebrow.

"Oh," Castle said sheepishly. "I get it."

"Nope. You don't get it for the foreseeable future, Castle. Now let's get some sleep."

It was a long night. Castle tossed and turned, muttering in his sleep. Beckett tried to make out what he was saying, but it was no use. Normally Castle giggled in his sleep, a childish action that Beckett found endearing, but tonight he seemed tortured. He thrashed around, whispering one moment and almost shouting the next. He almost seemed delirious with fever, but Beckett put her palm on his forehead and he felt cool and clammy. She thought about waking him up, but decided against it. A few times before, Castle had awakened with a new theory about a sticky case, and if that was what he was up to now, she didn't want to take a chance of destroying his stream-of-unconsciousness. She tried to get to sleep, but it was futile. She was worried; not about the case, as this one was like so many others, and she was confident they'd get to the truth soon, even with Jackson's declaration that "things will be in motion." No, this was personal. She and Castle had a very frank talk about their sex life, and even though she had misgivings about bondage, she had relented. But Castle seemed to be making excuses to avoid it, despite the initial resumption earlier in the evening, and when Beckett finally fell asleep, she did so wondering whether this was a mistake.

* * *

"You had quite an involved conversation with yourself last night, Castle," said Beckett over coffee the next morning.

"I did? I don't remember having a dream."

"I thought you were testing theories with your alter ego."

"With Robocastle? I guess I might have been. Gee, I wish I remembered what we discussed."

"Sounds like we'll never know. Now we'd better go. We only have twenty minutes to meet your dad, and I don't want to be late."

The traffic was worse than usual for a weekday morning, and, to make up for lost time, Beckett hit the lights and siren. Castle watched in fascination as one-by-one, cars pulled over to make way for them.

"I never tire of this," he said.

"Quit grinning, Castle."

He didn't.

The deli was packed, but they still saw Jackson the moment they entered. He beckoned them to a table and they sat down.

"You should try the pastrami and cottage cheese omelet," he said. "It's actually quite good."

"Yeah, I'm just going to have a sourdough bagel with butter and coffee," said Beckett.

"Same here," said Castle.

"So," said Jackson after their order had been taken, "did we get a match?"

"We did," Beckett said. "It's..."

"Carl La Paglia," said Jackson. "I thought about it on the flight. He's the only one with the balls to even try such a thing."

"No, no, no!" said Castle. "I reject that entirely. It _is_ La Paglia, but you knew that because he called you, didn't he? Manzano might be Elliot's right-hand man, but La Paglia is yours. He isn't setting us up, _you _are_. _La Paglia didn't murder Jennifer Thompson, but you know who did, don't you? You told him to enter the senator's apartment and plant that note. You knew that Douglas Thompson was code named blue raven, but La Paglia didn't. Why would he? He's no one special, but you are. You have access to a whole shit load of information that only the top echelon has. That note in the safe was a MacGuffin, a ruse to get me to turn to you for help. You wanted to be in on this, and now you are." He stared intently at Jackson, and Beckett, who had to snap her mouth shut, did too.

"Keep your voice down, Richard!" Jackson exclaimed. He looked around the deli and then said in a hushed tone, "you got me. I had La Paglia plant the note and feed you that Poe line, to pique your interest. But I don't know who murdered Jennifer Thompson. Not yet."

"Why?" asked Beckett.

"Because I need your help and you need mine. I can't arrest anyone, but you can. We have to figure out who did this before things come to a head and someone else gets killed. I'm afraid that it might be Alexander, or even senator Thompson."

The waitress approached the table. "Your pastrami and cottage cheese omelet, sir," she said.

"I ordered pastrami and cream cheese," said Jackson.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'll fix this right away."

"Let me guess," whispered Castle, "they give you pastrami and cream cheese if they want to talk to you. You pretend you wanted pastrami and cream cheese if you want to talk to them."

"How did you know, Richard?"

"Lucky guess."

The waitress came back. "I'm sorry, sir, we're out of cream cheese."

"What?" said twenty or so outraged voices in the vicinity.

"The truck should be here in a few minutes if you'd care to wait," ad-libbed the waitress. "And the manager wants to speak to you to personally apologize."

"I'm bringing my son and his fiancée with me," Jackson said. "Let's go."

The office in the Loaves and Knishes deli was a tiny room with a desk, a single chair, and an overhead fluorescent light that buzzed and flickered.

"Tell me there's a hidden room somewhere," said Castle.

"Sorry, Mr. Castle, there's not," said a voice at Castle's elbow.

A tall man entered, with a military haircut, a three-day beard, and a pair of aviator shades. He held out his hand and Castle shook it. He took off his glasses, and the realization of who it was hit Castle and Beckett at the same time.

"Douglas Thompson," they said in unison.

"Pleased to meet you," he said. "Now let's get to work and figure out who murdered my wife."


	6. Chapter 6

_Safe Words_

_Chapter Six_

_Pride Goeth Before..._

"Douglas, I was wondering when you'd show up," Castle said. "Jennifer's funeral is today, so you had to come. I didn't expect you to be working for my father, though. In fact, I thought you were working for director Elliott."

"Elliott is a son of a bitch," said Douglas. "Jackson recruited me a year ago, after he learned about what happened to Jennifer. The director approached me later the same week. Jackson told me to expect that. He knew that Elliott would try to make it look like he was on the up-and-up by using me in the investigation. That way, it would seem like he was on my side, like he was interested in finding out who really tortured Jennifer. But he had Manzano keeping tabs on me. I'm pretty sure I saw him a couple of times in Tikrit. And I think he had orders to take me out if I got too close to the truth."

"Tikrit?" Beckett said. "Why were you in Tikrit? Your mother told us that Jennifer was stationed in Afghanistan."

"She wasn't," Douglas said. "It was a cover story. Jennifer was in counter-intelligence, and even a senator couldn't know the whole truth."

"So what did she learn that got her killed?"

Douglas glanced at Jackson, who nodded.

"This doesn't leave this room," said Douglas. "Even your captain can't know what I'm about to tell you until after you make the arrest." He took a deep breath. "Jennifer found definitive proof of the existence of ISIS in Iraq almost three years ago. She was being held by ISIS militants when my team rescued her. Because of the sensitivity of this intelligence, the CIA also had to be notified. Elliott personally debriefed her. Then, after I was occupied in Afghanistan trying to defuse an insurgence, he began a campaign to discredit her. He told the president and the joint chiefs of staff that Jennifer was addicted to heroin, and what she said couldn't be trusted. That's when the torture began. It was both physical and psychological. They were trying to get her to believe that she hadn't actually been captured, that it was all a delusion brought on by drug addiction. They shot her up with heroin. They put her in solitary confinement for five weeks. It was sickening."

Douglas' eyes filled with tears and he turned his head away. Beckett's phone rang, and she stepped away to answer it.

"Yes, captain?"

"You and Castle had better get going. We've got another murder."

"Can't someone else take it? Castle and I are following a lead."

"It's related to your case, Beckett. The face is pretty messed up, but the ID in the vic's wallet is that of Carl La Paglia."

"What?" Beckett shouted. "How is that possible? He was in custody and wasn't due to be let out until one P.M."

"We sprung him last night. We had to. A man with CIA credentials came by and demanded we charge or release La Paglia. We couldn't charge him, so we let him go. And now he's dead, so make haste, Beckett. I'm emailing you the address."

"Captain, I need to see a photo from the video feed of the CIA agent."

"Why?"

"Please trust me. Just have a tech email me the photo and Castle and I will be there right away."

"I do trust you, Beckett. Not Castle so much, but you'll have your photograph."

When Beckett got back to the office, Douglas was on the phone and Castle was talking to Jackson.

"Mom, stop crying," said Douglas. "I'm fine, really. I'll see you at the funeral this afternoon."

Castle shook his head. "Beckett, who was that on the phone?" he asked.

"It was Gates. We've got to get to going. Carl La Paglia was released late last night and murdered shortly after."

"Kate," Jackson said, "this is what I meant when I said things were going to start happening. Witnesses are being eliminated. This is going to get a lot worse if we don't act quickly."

Beckett checked her phone and found the email with the surveillance photograph. "Jackson, I want you to take a look at something," she said. "Castle, you too." She used her fingers to enlarge the photo, zooming in on the CIA agent's face. There was a distinct scar visible under his left eye.

"Manzano," said Jackson, Castle and Beckett together."

* * *

The scene where Carl La Paglia was murdered was curiously devoid of reporters and photographers. "They'd be all over this place if they knew who this guy really is," Castle said.

Ryan and Esposito walked up. "No witnesses," said Ryan. "We canvassed the neighborhood pretty well, but, considering La Paglia was murdered in an alley behind a theater, that's not surprising."

"Lanie says the bullet looks like a .38," Espo said. "She's already on her way back to the morgue. We kept the body here until you guys had a chance to look at it."

Beckett told Ryan and Espo about Manzano.

"So there _is _a Manzano," said Espo. "I was beginning to think he was entirely fictional. Like Bruno."

Beckett pulled Castle aside. "There's something I don't understand," she said. "Why would La Paglia go with Manzano?"

"He wouldn't," Castle said, "unless he didn't know it was Manzano who sprung him. It's not like any CIA agent has a shortage of identities to choose from."

"OK, so he thinks that Manzano is just a random agent sent to get him out of jail. Why come into a blind alley with him? Trust seems to be in short supply in the CIA these days."

"Maybe he thought they were going to meet up with someone. Like the deli, only this place is a theater and there's a hidden entrance in the back."

"That would make him a pretty gullible CIA agent, Castle. But I don't have anything better. Let's take a look at the body and then get back to the station house."

* * *

Castle and Beckett found Gates waiting for them when they arrived.

"You'd better head over to the interrogation room," Gates said. "Senator Thompson is waiting to see you two. She said it's most urgent."

Thompson was sitting at the table wearing a black dress, black hat, black gloves, and sunglasses. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "This arrived at my office in Washington this morning."

She pushed a box across the table. Beckett opened it and took out a large stack of neatly written papers.

"It's Jennifer's first draft of my memoirs. I haven't read it yet. I didn't even open it until I got home. But there's definitely some things in there that will help you." She sighed. "I'd better get going. I've got to get to St. Patrick's cathedral for the service, and then out to the cemetery for the funeral."

"We're going too," Beckett said. "Castle will keep an eye out for suspicious behavior and I'll help with security. Gates will keep the box in the safe until we get back."

"I hope it's a better safe than I have, detective."

The service was a low-key affair, but well attended. There were quite a few senators and congressmen and women, along with many Marines, of course. Douglas gave a moving eulogy, speaking about how empty his life had been until he met his wife. Castle glanced back-and-forth many times, but nothing caught his interest.

The ride to the cemetery was long and dreary. Once again, Douglas Thompson got up to speak. Castle stood next to Beckett and the heat of the New York summer sun felt oppressive on the back of his head. A light flashed in his eye, and he squinted.

"Sun in your eyes?" whispered Beckett, and suddenly Castle was hit with an overpowering sensation of déjà vu.

"Gun!" he shouted.

Beckett hit the deck, pulling Castle down with her. She drew her gun and scanned the perimeter. "Stay down," she said, and Castle nodded. He glanced to his left. All the Marines in attendance, who were unarmed, were lying flat. The senator was too, but Douglas, apparently lost in thought, was staring straight ahead in disbelief. Castle got to his knees and launched himself at Douglas, tackling him just as a bullet whizzed over his head. He looked up, and saw a man holding a rifle and pointing it at him.

A shot rang out. The man with the rifle lurched backward, dropping the gun as a squad of Marines descended upon him. To his right was Beckett, holding her gun.

"Castle, are you OK?" she said in a panicked voice.

"Saved my ass again, Beckett. This is getting to be a habit with you."

Senator Thompson walked up. "Thank you, detective," she said.

"You and Douglas better come with me," Beckett said. "I'll take you home and make sure you get inside safely."

Espo came running up. "It's Manzano," he said. "He was the shooter. He wouldn't try something this bold unless he was really desperate."

"Right," Beckett said. "We'll see you at the station house.

* * *

Beckett dropped off Senator and Douglas Thompson at the Imperial Arms and she and Beckett came back to the 12th precinct. She divided up the manuscript and passed it out to Ryan, Espo and Castle, taking one-fourth of it herself.

"Looks like we've got an all-nighter ahead of us," she said.

It was four AM when they finally got all the pieces put together.

"This is truly sordid," said Castle. "And I'm too tired to drive home. There are beds here, right?"

"Yes," Beckett said. "Let's get a few hours of sleep before we make the arrest."

"Agreed," said Ryan. "I'll set the alarm for 8. And I'm making breakfast."

When Beckett woke up, Castle was already dressed.

"I took a shower in the locker room," he said. "I'm good to go."

"OK," said Beckett. "I'll do the same. And I'm actually looking forward to whatever it is that Ryan's making."

Twenty minutes later, Beckett walked into the kitchen.

"Mmm," she said. I love the smell of..."

"Bacon!" said Ryan. "Straight from Ireland." He beckoned to Beckett, and Castle bristled.

"You beckoned Beckett?" he said. "You can't do that. You can't beckon my fiancee."

"Not even for bacon?"

"No. No beckoning Beckett, bacon or not."

"And you have a better idea?"

"What about a beacon? A bacon beacon. Better?"

"So, no beckoning, but a Beckett bacon beacon? Better! Butter?"

"Butter with bacon?"

"No, butter with bread. Bread, butter, and a Beckett bacon beacon. Because bacon, bread, butter and borscht all go so well together!"

"Borscht? Beet soup?"

"Yes! Beet borscht, bread, butter, Beckett bacon beacon, blackberry blintzes and blueberry bagels."

"Bread _and_ bagels?"

"You betcha. Bud, too."

"Bud? Beer?"

"How long did you guys rehearse that?" Beckett said behind a facepalm.

"An hour," Castle said. "But I drew the line at bananas."

"There was a _line_?"

"I'm not saying it was hard and fast or anything."

* * *

Beckett pulled up to the Imperial Arms with Ryan and Espo in the car behind them.

"Detective, you caught me just in time," said senator Thompson. "I was about to head to the airport for the flight back to D.C."

"We're here to tell you we're going to make an arrest," Beckett said.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Isn't it, Douglas?"

"Indeed," he said. "So, who did it?"

"We need to fill you in on some background information first, senator. First of all, the true nature of Jennifer's military mission. She did _not _serve in Afghanistan. She was in Iraq."

"What? That can't be true. Why Douglas himself told me."

"Actually, they're right, mother," said Douglas. "But I needed to protect you."

"Protect me from what, Douglas? I'm a United States senator! I have a security clearance, I'm on important committees. You didn't trust me?"

"And," continued Beckett, "she found some pretty damaging information about director Elliott. It was the same old story. We followed the money, and uncovered the truth. You see, Jennifer found out about ISIS in Iraq."

"What?" exclaimed the senator. "How can that be?"

"She was in counter-intelligence, senator. And ISIS could have been stopped years ago, before they grew so big, if Jennifer's intelligence hadn't been suppressed."

"Suppressed? By whom?"

"By the director of the CIA, Gregory Elliott. ISIS officials were bribing him to keep their presence secret until they established a stronghold. He also supplied ISIS with intelligence, firepower estimates, troop levels. They kept out of sight, growing the organization until we began withdrawing troops."

"Gregory would never do such a thing! I've known him for years."

"He did, senator. He thought being the head of the CIA was enough to keep his data safe. It wasn't. Jennifer had a mentor, a white-haired grizzled veteran agent who taught her all about hacking. And she got really good at it, too. So good that she was able to break into John Manzano's email."

"Who's John Manzano? Is he the man who killed Jennifer?"

"He was the shooter at the cemetery today. Jennifer wrote that she remembered the man who tortured her by the scar under his left eye. He tried to kill Douglas today, but he didn't kill Jennifer. We know he was in Vienna on the day Jennifer was killed. No, she was killed by someone else."

Beckett looked at Douglas. "You killed her," she said.

"What?" said Douglas. "You're crazy, lady."

"She was on to you!" Castle said. "She found your emails on Google's servers. You should have known that simply deleting an email doesn't make it disappear entirely. She found the email where you told Manzano what was at stake. How you ordered him to torture your own wife, to make her doubt reality to the point that any testimony she gave could be discredited. And she found the emails between you and Elliott, too. But you knew we were getting close, so you tried to sell Elliott down the river by telling us how he 'personally debriefed' Jennifer, and tried to discredit her. You were desperate. You didn't want to go down for the murder, so you turned on Elliott. And he sensed the same thing so he sent Manzano to try to kill you."

"Lucky for you, my partner saved your life," said Beckett. Castle beamed a smile.

"What did those emails say?" the senator asked. "The ones between Douglas and Gregory?"

"They said," Beckett replied, "that Douglas approved of Elliott's plan to win your love. To use the money he got from ISIS to build a new life with you. Elliott was going to retire, and propose to you. Move with you to a nice place in the country where you could still commute to Washington."

"My God," said Thompson.

"Mom," pleaded Douglas, "you have to understand something. I've seen how lonely you are after dad died. Gregory could give you the companionship you need, and get you out of this dump of a place, too. You could have a nice little nest egg with that money."

"And then what, Douglas? You'd kill me, too, and get a nice ineritance? I can't look at you right now. Take him away, detective. Take him away." She took out a handkerchief and began sobbing into it.

Beckett cuffed him. "Douglas Thompson, you're under arrest for the murder of Jennifer Thompson and baby boy Thompson," she said.

"Baby boy Thompson?" asked Douglas.

"Jennifer was pregnant, Douglas. And that makes you a double murderer." She read him his Miranda rights and Espo and Ryan led him to their car.

"Right about now, some FBI agents should be arresting Gregory Elliott," said Beckett. "I'm truly sorry, senator."

Castle and Beckett left the senator on her bed, crying into her pillow.

* * *

"I didn't know Jennifer was pregnant," said Castle on the drive home.

"Lanie told me the first night," Beckett said. "You had already gone home to speak to Alexis."

"Speaking of which, I told her that she can go to Cancun after all. But, I was thinking, we should take advantage of Alexis being out of town by going on a nice vacation too. Some place with a beautiful beach, clear, blue water, incredible food."

"Bora Bora?"

"I was thinking Cancun. It seems like a great place."

"Not on your life Castle."

"Well," he said, "it was worth a try."

* * *

Later that night, as Castle's right wrist was handcuffed, Beckett decided that this was a good time to tell him about her feelings.

"I'm glad to see you decided to do this," she said, "but sometimes I wonder what it is that I bring to your life."

"Beckett, I'm shocked to hear you say that. What do you bring to my life? You bring life itself. Without you I'm just a hack writer who lives with his mom and misses his daughter. But with you...I'm half of a great team. Half of a great couple. I'm a man who is madly in love with the most wonderful woman in the world. A man who can't wait to marry you." He paused for a three-count. "And I'm still a hack writer who lives with his mom and misses his daughter."

Beckett laughed. "OK, Papa Smurf, are you finally ready to do this?"

"Papa Smurf? Those aren't my safe words anymore. After you saved me again, I have a new one."

"Just one? What is it?"

"It's Kate. Because when I'm with you, I feel totally safe."

"Oh, you do, do you? How do you feel about me now?"

Beckett turned Castle onto his stomach and cuffed his left hand to his right. She raised the whip, then flicked her wrist as hard as she could. The speed of its tip cracked the air with a pop. She raised it again, and this time, the whip landed on Castle's ass with a loud slapping sound, quickly drowned out by an even louder sound that made Beckett cover her ears in pain.

"Kaaaaaaaaaaaate!"


End file.
